Free The Candle of Distant Earth by Alan Dean Foster

would rather cross the void between the stars to obtain something they could otherwise acquire by simple mining.”
    Tail metronoming as he walked, George shrugged expressively. “Hey, I know a couple of dogs just like to fight. They’d rather steal your food than go find their own. To their way of thinking, it’s more rewarding.” He glanced up at Walker, then away. “I’m not above snitching somebody else’s bone myself, if I can get away with it without losing a piece of ear in the process. Humans, of course, never do anything like that.”
    â€œDon’t insult me until I’ve admitted to something,” Walker chided his friend. He looked back at Sehblidd. “Your people have weapons. Advanced ones, from what little I’ve seen and learned about such things. You have local and planetary entities that are organized to handle law enforcement. Seems to me you could put together an army pretty quick.”
    Sehblidd tilted his head back to meet the eyes of the much taller human. “It would be counterproductive. Small arms are little use against weapons that can be launched from space. There have been, in the past, discussions about building armed satellites with which to surprise our tormentors. That technology is not beyond us. But the one time we offered armed resistance, we were badly defeated. The consequences were terrible. If we were to try to employ something like mobile, weaponized satellites and even one Iollth ship were to escape such a counterattack, it could rain incalculable destruction down on Hyff that we would not be able to defend against.” His dark eyes glistened. “Or worse, it could flee, and return with a much larger force that would not be surprised a second time, at even greater cost.” He looked away, letting his short arms fall to his sides.
    â€œThe general consensus is that it is better to allow the Iollth their infrequent incursions, tolerate their brief depredations, and fulfill their demands, than to risk devastation on a far greater scale.”
    â€œI’m familiar with that philosophy,” Walker murmured softly. “It’s part of the history of my kind, too. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”
    â€œWe have adapted to the necessity,” Mardalm told him, speaking up for the first time. “That is the situation now. It has been stable, if uncomfortably so, for many thousands of day-slices.”
    â€œAnd you’re overdue for a visit from these merry marauders?” George inquired again.
    Sehblidd gestured positively once more. “Hence our reaction at your arrival in our system. We are visited so rarely by space-going species, and it has been so long since the last Iollth incursion, that we were certain you were them. Or their friends, or allies.”
    â€œWhat you folks need,” George declared as he sniffed intently at an aromatically attractive bush before a frowning Walker nudged him away, “are a couple of big dogs of your own. The techno-military equivalent of a mastiff on one side of you and a rottweiler on the other.”
    Confused, Sehblidd and Ussakk fiddled with their translating units. It was left to the linguist Mardalm to try to interpret. “I believe the quadruped George is referring to large, powerful creatures from his own domain. The analogy is clear, even if the biology is unreferenceable.”
    They were approaching the shallow artificial lake that lay in the center of the gardens. Search as he would, Walker was unable to espy a plant or blade of growth that was out of place. Even in their landscaping, it seemed, the Hyfft were orderly to a fault.
    â€œOf course,” Sehblidd ventured unexpectedly as they continued their stroll, “if we were to have the aid of the aforementioned ‘big dogs’ in the form of armed space-going craft that had the ability to confront the Iollth on their own terms, resistance might be possible. As you